TELEVISION VISIONS
the human bomb is ticking
ticking ticking televisions
transmitting prophecies of
nuclear smuggling
dressed for the evening
got a date with televisions
plasma doomsday screens
these scenes hit close to home
and are brought to you by
the white corporate God
whose mouth is always open
don't ever let the children know
it's our greed that drove us
to the ground
there is great faith
in our ability to conceal truth
it's been proven
at least the commercials won't
panic and flood to the stores
for bottled water and batteries
someone has to be the role model
in our episodes of desperation
self-inflicted appetite for extinction
and apocalyptical consumption
SUBCONSCIOUS CITIES
We are griots of a new era crawling out from
anesthetic suburbs, the directionless but hyperactive
post-postmodern children experimental existential junkies
reading Dostoevsky in elite meth-lab classrooms transcending
the society with no roots to history in the 18th Century French
and American Revolutions, no roots to the 19th Century Spring of Nations
before Bohemian was a fashion show, no roots to the 20th
Century final stands of Dada, Lost, Beat, Situationist, Weathermen
and all other burned out flames, in the 21st century I'm forced
into bipolar boredom feeling socially obsolete tripping over the corpses
of all great ideas, breathing ancient air and spitting culture
rejecting invented medications to stimulate the workforce's droning focus
on multitasking maximum productivity, nowhere to hide from
the bureaucratic totality except in my poetic nightmares they
won't show those on the pixelated life simulation screen
because something uninfluenced by the state could electrify
the streets dawning the awaited uprising – will the day come?
I ask my friends as our conversations (sweet revolutionary nothings)
are recorded into the Patriot Act by the agents outside in
the van ignoring the girls coming in and out with morphine museums
in their mouths but paying close attention to the books we read
and our enemy combatant political ideologies while the cities
are asleep waiting for their daily routine, earth is now property
watch where you sleep or pay the fine, a friend of mine was
brought up on freedom he slept where he pleased and spoke his mind
but ended up in court wearing the right suit looking proper paying
the consequences for how he interpreted freedom, now he lives
in cheap crevices of the Midwest understanding freedom as only
consumer freedom, working odd jobs to live and pay off his
freedom's debt and by late afternoon he clocks out in tears
sometimes you have to choose the industry over the
industry in you that thrives on what you really want to do
I have a friend who studies ocean waves in Norfolk
another studying film in Savannah
Jordan studies hallucinogens in Gainesville
and I study poetry in any city and room available
we get together and throw parties in rose gardens
away from classrooms and class struggle
constructing a haze to encompass our hand-made
thunder we never want to escape, feeling the deja vu
of my DNA every time I reflect on what only is around
me this is the solace of past wishful thinking knowing
the outside reality can not really be real if we are
able to live free from it for the night and sing our
own songs around the fire as it burns away yesterday's
fear of tomorrow, only this moment right now is able
to exist so we soak in it and explore new territory of
the imagination stretching our minds the way dark matter
stretches the universe and we are finally free to just exist
but when I step out of the haze back into the chaos
of the city I'm reminded of previous flames burned out
and disassembled from the memory of streets, all I see
are billboards and briefcases trafficking the empty American Dream
I see automobiles of rush hour bleeding petroleum clouds
into the air down into our lungs wondering how many people have
been killed for the sacred full tanks of gas always there
at the businessman's endless request Death Rides an SUV
eats luxury and shits on the Middle East
but let us dwell no longer! There are little victories
waiting to be won one by one addressing the impassive majority
the old ways will destroy themselves, resist the cubicle grave!
There is life beyond laws, property, flags and contracts!
We are the substance of the future marching through tear gas
taking back our world we have the momentum that's been
building in us for centuries the old flames will breathe
again and light our way
HEADLINES
rip these pages of
the past and forge
the artificial
build a shrine to
worship publically
under the vast
totalitarian shadow
who can refund lost loved lives?
Time
I woke up in a dream
just to float
down to the imaginary
world
and fell back asleep
in the midst of
the metropolitan bloodbath
sidewalks littered with flesh
I vomit America every morning
leaves my World Trade Center throat
burning and
starving for newspapers
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